


but this time it was true

by saiditallbefore



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/F, Getting Together, Light Angst, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29180769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/pseuds/saiditallbefore
Summary: Here’s the thing: Fatin originally suggested living with Dot as a joke.  One of those things they all said to get themselves through another day on the island, to make themselves believe that there would be a lifeafterthe island.
Relationships: Dot Campbell/Fatin Jadmani
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	but this time it was true

**Author's Note:**

  * For [viudanegra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viudanegra/gifts).



> Title comes from _betty_ by Taylor Swift.

Here’s the thing: Fatin originally suggested living with Dot as a joke. One of those things they all said to get themselves through another day on the island, to make themselves believe that there would be a life _after_ the island.

But it's nice. Fatin paid for the house by selling her dad's watch, and most of their neighbors are social media influencers of one kind or another. There's a party somewhere almost every night, and Fatin has a pretty steady following on Instagram. 

Fatin comes home one night after one of these parties— kicks her heels off at the door, takes her hoop earrings out, and generally gets comfortable. She's ready to tell Dot all about the guy she just hooked up with, but Dot seems pretty into this TV show and Fatin isn't _totally_ rude, so she joins Dot on the couch. 

She has no idea what's going on in the show— something about a French woman trapped on an island? But also about a series of cursed lottery numbers? Honestly, she's not really following that closely. Fatin is more than happy to let it wash over her while she leans against Dot and steals her chips. Dot keeps interjecting little comments— talking back to the characters and telling them what they should have done— and it's honestly kind of cute. 

When the next episode starts up, Fatin doesn't move, and neither does Dot.

* * *

It takes some nagging, but Fatin finally convinces Dot to go to one of the neighbors’ parties with her. Dot keeps saying that she’s not really a party person, and sure, they’re probably not everyone’s scene, but come _on_. After everything they’ve been through, shouldn’t they live a little?

Dot’s actually dressed up for the occasion— or at least, what passes for dressed up in her wardrobe. She’s wearing a plain black button-down, and her hair is clipped back from her face. It’s a little butch for Fatin’s taste, but whatever. It makes Dot happy.

In her heels, Fatin is taller than Dot. It’s strange, but she likes it— likes the way Dot looks up at her and gives her a little smile as they walk down the street and to the party.

The music is already pumping when they get there. Fatin introduces Dot to a few people— some of them have met her before, but Dot is quickly turning into the cryptid of the neighborhood. Fatin loses track of her for a while, finding herself a drink and a couple of hot guys to dance with. When she steps away from the dancefloor for a quick breather, she sees Dot again, standing in a corner and holding a drink.

“What are you doing all by yourself?” Fatin asks, raising her voice to be heard over the music.

“I’m not sure this is my scene,” Dot answers.

“Have you even danced?” Fatin knows the answer, but she might as well make Dot tell her.

“I don’t—” Dot begins.

Fatin tugs on Dot’s arm. “Dance with me!”

Dot shakes her head, but she gives in. In moments, the two of them are in the middle of the crowded dancefloor. They’re sweating and singing along to the music and Fatin definitely isn’t getting laid tonight because she looks gross, but she’s pleasantly tipsy and she’s having fun. And, even more importantly, Dot looks like she’s having fun, too.

The beat drops. Fatin and Dot both attempt to drop it as low as they can, but Fatin loses balance on her heels and the two of them tumble to the floor, laughing.

As Dot helps Fatin up, Fatin looks at her, flushed and smiling and beautiful, and wonders what it would be like to kiss her.

Oh.

_Oh_.

That’s different.

* * *

Fatin is very open-minded, okay. Wanting to fuck girls? She didn’t see that coming, but no big, she can deal. 

Liking Dot? That’s different. Fatin doesn’t _like_ people like that. That’s a quick road to heartbreak and Fatin doesn’t do that; she leaves that to other girls.

Besides, she’s got a good thing going here with Dot. They like hanging out together, they spilt all the chores pretty evenly, and neither one of them has to explain their weird traumas from the island. Why would she mess that up?

Fatin has just decided to act completely normal, so she doesn’t mess anything up, when Dot comes home. She’s carrying a pizza and a bag full of groceries, and Fatin rushes to help her put things away. 

“Pizza night?” Fatin asks.

“Yeah. You like Hawaiian, right?” 

“Ugh, gross. Gimme.” Fatin tries not to let on that she finds it kind of nice that Dot remembers what she likes. That’s what friends are supposed to do, after all.

The pizza is thick and greasy and disgusting and Fatin absolutely loves it. It’s exactly the kind of thing she had daydreams about back on the island. She and Dot eat it straight from the box, standing around the kitchen island. 

“Are you going out tonight?” Dot asks. 

Fatin considers it for a moment, then shakes her head. She’s not in the mood to find a hookup, and staying in and watching tv with Dot seems more fun tonight than going out. “Are you watching more weird survivalist shows?”

“They’re not weird!” Dot laughs. “And you can pick a show if you want.”

Fatin doesn’t actually watch much tv when she’s not with Dot. She never had time, back before the island— sometimes she would watch a movie with her family, but she spent most of her spare time practicing cello. And now she mostly watches tv when she’s spending time with Dot. So she thinks over the shows they’ve watched recently. 

“What was the one with the hot people in the ‘70s?” Fatin asks.

Dot stares at her blankly for a moment. Then she says, “You mean Lost?”

Fatin shrugs. “Whichever, I guess.”

For some reason, Dot laughs. “At some point, I really need you to tell me what you think that show is about.”

“Girl, you know I don’t pay attention.”

It’s especially hard to pay attention when she’s curled up next to Dot on the couch, listening to her talk back to the characters on tv. It’s cozy and comfortable and right now, Fatin can’t imagine being anywhere better.

* * *

Fatin thinks she’s doing a pretty good job of playing it cool. Acting normal. She goes out, because she gets bored if she’s not surrounded by people, and she comes home and hangs out with Dot, and tries not to let it get weird.

Then Dot goes along with her to another party. It’s nothing special, by Fatin’s standards— just another one of their influencer neighbors trying to show off. They dance for a while, and Fatin tries to contain the warm feeling in her chest. They take a break, and Fatin goes to get a drink and loses track of Dot for a little while. 

Fatin catches sight of Dot again eventually: head thrown back, apparently laughing at something the guy she’s talking to said. He’s really hot— the kind of guy Fatin wouldn’t mind hooking up with for a night or two. 

Good for her. Dot needs to get out more. 

Dot catches her eye, and Fatin gives her a wide grin and a thumbs-up. Then she lets the current of the crowd carry her away.

For a few minutes, she considers finding someone of her own for the night. But she’s really not in the mood. 

She’s not in the mood for any of this party, anymore.

Fatin drifts out into the backyard and sits on the porch, sipping her drink and watching half-heartedly as some of the other partygoers threaten to toss someone into the pool. 

A familiar weight settles next to her. “Hey.”

Fatin bumps her shoulder against Dot’s. “Don’t you have someone else to be talking to?”

“You’re out here,” Dot said.

Fatin turned to face her fully. There was something in Dot’s expression that she didn’t want to put a name to— something she’d seen in other people’s faces when they looked at her, but never in Dot’s.

Dot leaned forward, and Fatin knew exactly what was going to happen right before it did. For a single, infinite, moment, all Fatin could see was Dot’s green eyes. Then, without Fatin knowing who moved those last few inches, they’re kissing.

In some ways, it’s not so different from the kissing Fatin has done before. As far as she’s concerned, kissing is basically the same, no matter who she does it with. But in other ways, it’s worlds different.

After all, this is Dot. She’s one of Fatin’s best friends, one of the people she trusts more than anything. And when she pulls away from Fatin, taking a breath, Fatin can’t help but ask.

“Are you sure about this?”

Dot places her hand on Fatin’s. “I really like you.”

Fatin laces her fingers through Dot’s. “Good. Because I really like you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did this entire fic spring from a headcanon that Dot would _totally_ watch Lost? You better believe it did. XD


End file.
